You said nothing. Your body was still tingling from the flood of white light. But your stomach felt sour. A scene was stuck in your mind like a video stuck in a loop—you show up at Jill’s. The doorman smiles and waves you in. Jill meets you at her apartment door with a grin. And you—what? Tell her and watch that smile disappear. Or don’t tell her and then what? Sitting around her place trying to grin back at her, nervous energy gripping you like a fist, your heart racing. Shit, shit, what had they done to you? You’d dogged girls and lied before, smooth as milk. But you couldn’t now. You were sure of that. Why not? Was it the Program or was it Jill? Was it love?

“And you don’t—you don’t need anything, right?” Rhonda said. “I don’t have to do anything for you?”

“Nope,” you said.

“And you won’t tell anyone about this?” Rhonda said. “Don’t tell anyone about this.”

“Nope.”

“Ohh, it felt so good.” Rhonda said. “How the hell did they teach you that? Guys can never do it like that.”

You said nothing.

“One more time,” Rhonda said. “One more time and I’ll let you go.”

“What. The. Hell.” Jill said.

“I’m telling you,” you said. “It’s something to do with the Program. I’m serious. Jill, I wouldn’t—Jill, I’m serious about you. I—”

“Oh, shut the fuck up,” Jill said, her hazel eyes blazing. “Stop whining. Don’t you dare blame it on the Program. All the Program did was make you tell me. Don’t even claim you wouldn’t have dogged me without the Program. I mean, under an absurdly hypothetical scenario where I’d be with you without the Program. Don’t even front.”

“Okay. Okay. But give me another chance—”

“Shit, why are you even begging? Do you think I care?”

“Jill, it won’t—”

“Shut up.” She opened a cabinet in the kitchenette and pulled out one shot glass and a bottle of Absolut. She poured, put down the bottle, and gulped the shot down. Then she screwed the cap on and put the bottle away. Then she paced, slowly, tracing the rim of the empty glass with her thumb.

You sat down on the couch, setting your coat down on the coffee table.

“I’m keeping you,” Jill said. “I’m fucking keeping you, all right? Because you’re too good. But, goddamn it, I won’t be dogged. So this is an open relationship, as of now. I’m going to have other guys up here. Ones who haven’t done the Program, who still want it. You know?”

You looked at your feet, a slow burn of red spreading across your cheeks. It felt like the apartment had come loose from the building and was wobbling.